


By Your Light

by aionimica



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, cuddling for warmth, soft smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 20:39:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17251034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aionimica/pseuds/aionimica
Summary: It’s cold outside, so Rey and Ben must figure out how to stay warm.





	By Your Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hipgrab (merrymegtargaryen)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymegtargaryen/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this little baby of a fic! I ended up having a lot of fun writing it, so I hope you all enjoy :)

* * *

 

 

“It’s cold,” she says.

It’s an unnecessary statement, made even more so by the fact that the heater is out and it’s snowing outside, the drifts growing to solid mounds just outside their door. It was tempting to call it picturesque — the moon rising above the snow covered wilderness, just barely seen behind the clouds — but there was a wild-ness that was almost threatening; daring to come in their home, creeping in through the frost on the glass.

But for once on winter nights, she’s not alone. They grab another quilt and wrap it around themselves. He’s there and he’s warm and close and pressed against her as he says, “I know.”

~

“At least there’s wood,” Rey says as the crackling fire sparks in her eyes. Ben nestles closer to her, his chin tucking above her head. She fits so well, so perfectly like this that he almost thanks the weather and the heater for failing him so miserably.

He notes with a smile that she didn’t say, this was your idea to come to the mountains to a house with no heat. She wouldn’t ever say that — he might in a fit of anger and then immediately regret it, but that’s when her posture would straighten and her jaw would firm up and she’s ask him to not talk to her that way and that she’d give him time to calm down if he needed it, but she wouldn’t be subject to his emotional whims.

It took years to get them to the point where they knew each other to this point, where their injuries were no longer fresh and had long since scarred, some scabbed over by the other. But his whims were no longer whims and there was a steadfastness to his previous rollercoaster of a life. He bettered himself for her, so he wouldn’t fail her again.

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t go out,” he says as he disengages from her grasp. There’s a disgruntled hmph as his vacancy lets in the cold, before the rustling of blankets cover her again.

There’s the upper half of a face, soft brown eyes and a messy bun of brown hair gazing out at him from beneath the blanket nest when he turns to look. He smiles and feels her eyes on him as he adjusts the logs and adds more fuel to the fire.

~

“It’s cold,” she says as they lie there on the floor, their room too cold to sleep in that far from the fire. They lay on a pallet made from all the blankets they can find and they lit candles and turned off all the lights.

Might as well give into the ambiance, she says at one point with that smile of hers that he just can’t say no to.

But now he’s curled into her side, her hands roving against her bare stomach, pulling her close until there is no space between them. “I’m here,” he says as he wraps himself around her, “I’ll keep you warm.”

His heat is her heat and he would give it all to make her warm, to make her burn until there was nothing left but comfort. Lips curve over her collarbone, kissing it until it melts, until she turns in his hand and wraps around him, as if he were a blanket stitched just for her.

And perhaps he was.

 _I'm_ _cold_ , she says because she’s not used to cold. Heat is her name, a desert child who would rather sweat and toil in all seasons than hunker down and conserve for winter.

He is a child of snow, of cold and ice — it was in his blood, his mother and father; honed in wars and office and other trials. When she met him, he melted and wondered if he was going to die. A few years later, he decided dying was worth it in the light of her.

She turns into him, her lips hungry as they search for his, her hands taking their time as she strips him of his clothes. Frost escapes from her fingertips, dancing along his spine, taking his breath away with her chill as she pulls off his shirt. He gasps as she presses into that space, her hands caressing his jaw and pulling him close to breathe him in.

Warmth leaves his chest, as she slips beneath him, her hands teasing his cock, pumping him ever so gently as she frees of his pants. “Keep me warm,” she whispers over his lips as he

“Yes,” he says as she turns him over, hard and heavy and burning beneath the quilts.

She slides onto him and he watches through half lidded eyes as the covers slip back and the firelight catches her. Shadows and flame dance across her naked skin, her eyes closed with bliss as she rides him. Her hands prop herself up and her lips part as she bends over, just close enough for him to reach a breast with his tongue. A moan escapes her as he sucks, and she leans just a little closer as he teases her nipple to tender peaks. Her hips rock against his as little faster as he pulls back, continuing his ministrations with his hand.

“Please,” she begs as she stretches around him, taking his mind away with each motion.

“Yes,” he pants, desperate to close his eyes, “yes.” But he keeps his eyes open for her — “yes” — for cold Rey who catches fire in the dark.


End file.
